


tides in our eyes

by lisettedelapin



Category: Free!
Genre: (not really a focus though), 2020 Summer Olympics, M/M, day 4: it's my turn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2660897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisettedelapin/pseuds/lisettedelapin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago, on a night much like this one save for the surroundings of Haruka’s cramped Tokyo dorm rather than a swanky hotel room, Rin had told him that always, what Haruka gave him was an easy sort of clarity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tides in our eyes

**Author's Note:**

> for day 4 of rinharu week!
> 
> prompt: it's my turn

Haruka cannot quite trace the moment that he and Rin became the type of couple to leave the fan on when it’s too cold in favour of sharing body heat. But sure enough, they’re tangled in a glacial hotel room; Haruka watching the ceiling fan oscillate dizzily overhead as Rin reaches for him in the same way he always has, always will. 

“We’re in the Olympic village,” Haruka says, because for a moment reality fuzzes at the corners and saying it aloud for Rin to hear reminds Haruka that it has to be true.

Rin smiles against his shoulder, his whispered laugh skimming hushed and toothpaste-cold over Haruka’s skin. “Of course we’re in the Olympic village. Have you seen us swim?”

At that, Haruka slides down the bed so that when he turns on his side, he is face to face with Rin. It’s too dark to see much but Haruka has always been resourceful and so he reaches to trace the curve of Rin’s lips with his finger; searching for the smirk he’s so certain of having heard in Rin’s voice. He finds it, if only for a second, before he feels Rin’s mouth ease, followed by the softest pressure against his fingertip and then a nip to the skin. 

“Oi,” Rin says, but it sounds silly when it falls so gently.

“Can’t see you,” Haruka replies, moving his hand to cup the side of Rin’s face.

He hears rustling, a grunt from Rin as he shuffles closer, pressing their foreheads together. Haruka wonders how that contact manages to push his next breath out deep and easy; slide his eyelids shut.

“You don’t need to, I’m right here.” A moment, and then Rin’s voice again, whispered this time: “We’re in Tokyo. In the Olympic Village.”

“It doesn’t feel real,” Haruka says. However irrational it is, he worries for a second that the words will snatch the ground out from under them just to prove him right.

“Are you surprised?”

Haruka allows silence to settle between them before he nods. “Yes,” he says before quietly, he adds, “Are you?”

Rin huffs out the haughty beginnings of something before he freezes, relaxing slowly and Haruka hears him swallow before speaking.

“Dazed, maybe. But nah, not surprised.”

Haruka gives a low, thoughtful hum; blinking his eyes open to the vague outline of Rin’s feathered eyelashes, the slope of his nose. If the light was on, he knows he’d see himself reflected in Rin’s eyes and so even in the dark, Haruka finds himself considering just what Rin is grasping for when he looks at him. There is comfort in knowing that Rin will try to read him, coax the thoughts Haruka can't always fathom into light and open air. 

Years ago, on a night much like this one save for the surroundings of Haruka’s cramped Tokyo dorm rather than a swanky hotel room, Rin had told him that always, what Haruka gave him was an easy sort of clarity. Three days later and Haruka had kissed Rin behind the departures sign of an airport terminal. Rin had left for Sydney and in his wake, left saltwater on the pads of Haruka’s thumbs, a smile Haruka couldn’t forget; too bright and sharp for his mind to dull. 

Now, it is 2020 and they are both on home soil. Haruka touches a day’s worth of stubble on Rin’s jaw. The red and white of the tracksuit folded neatly in Haruka’s closet is the same as what Rin will wear at the opening ceremony tomorrow.

These are the facts that catch Haruka’s breath. But everything until now has occurred in the only way anything can when touched by Rin; striking in its simplicity, dizzying in how it has all raced ahead of uncertainty, left doubt to wither in the dust. And now, however daunting it is, there is no question that right here is where Haruka is supposed to be.

Years ago, Rin had told him that always, what Haruka gave him was an easy sort of clarity. Now, Haruka wonders just how he could begin to articulate the cool ease that clears his mind when he pokes his sock-clad foot against Rin’s calf, when his eyes adjust to see Rin’s eyes and the lucidity he finds has his lungs loosening.

Haruka wouldn’t say that Rin knows him better than he knows himself, but he has come to realise that Rin has always been able to lay a hand over his heart, steady its tremulous beat into something more stable. Rin has always helped him understand himself.

He is grateful for that.

“What are you thinking about?” Rin asks, and it baffles Haruka how Rin’s questions always either come at the tail end of a revelation, or provide the very spark of one.

“Wait.”  
  
Rin complies, even his breath seems to still.

Haruka frowns, his hand shifting from Rin’s face to flutter over his chest. When he hears Rin exhale, he speaks. “You’re always….giving me something.”

“Mmm, like in Rio when we practically handed your ass to you on a plate?”

Haruka huffs. “ _Rin._ ”

He hears Rin’s laugh then, marvels at its warmth, its ease – the fact that for a while, Haruka worried he might never hear it again. He’s a little disappointed when the sound stops and quiet swells between them.

When Rin opens his mouth, his voice is hushed by something soft, wistful; Haruka wishes it was something he could touch. 

“I’ve given you no more than you’ve given me.”

Haruka’s eyes widen. “All of this—“ He’s shaking his head when he feels Rin’s nose bump against his own, Rin’s air brushing his lips.

“—Is so much brighter because I share it with you,” Rin finishes.

Haruka can’t find it in him to berate Rin for cutting him off, not when he turns all that conviction Haruka’s way.

“Do you know what I always seem to be thinking with you?” Rin asks, suddenly. 

“What?”

He feels fingers skate down his arm before Rin’s palm is pressed to his own, their fingers easing into each other’s spaces as Rin draws both their hands up to rest between their chests.

“It’s _my_ turn.”

“For what?”

There’s a tingle down Haruka’s spine and he knows that Rin is holding his eyes in his own. He shivers and he feels Rin’s fingers flex so he stares right back at Rin, lets the intensity settle in the hard line of his teeth, the butterflies in his gut. He wonders when exactly all of Rin’s challenges started feeling more like reassurance whispered against the thrum and skip of his pulse.

He sees the glint of Rin’s grin, still so untrained, still one of the greatest reminders of how _alive_ this Earth can possibly be.

“For hauling you up to a height you’d never imagine could exist. “  
  
Haruka swallows thickly.

“Because that’s _always—,_ “ Rin’s eyes are so focused Haruka feels like the satellites up in Space could register the two of them, “—that’s always where you’re taking me.”

“Always a competition with you.”

Rin hums. “It’s a rivalry, after all. Romantic, isn’t it?”

Haruka cannot hold back the tiny laugh he breathes against Rin’s mouth, the giddiness that twists at his stomach. “Let’s go.”

He sees the flutter of Rin’s lashes as his eyes begin to lid. So he tugs Rin towards him and Rin tugs back. He’s just beginning to contemplate the nature of rivalries when Rin’s mouth skates along his jaw and there’s a haze that clears Haruka’s mind of processing anything but sensation.

He thinks he hears the words, “Yeah, let’s go,” skim the corner of his lips before Rin’s mouth opens under his own and all Haruka can do is sigh.

In the limited space between them, they hold multitudes. Haruka wonders how anything else could be true. And when he runs his thumb over Rin’s; when he yanks their hands closer to press against the thumping of his chest; he is certain that they could go anywhere.

“Everywhere,” Rin whispers.

Haruka hides his smile against Rin’s skin; he knows Rin can feel it anyway.


End file.
